There Were Nine
by hiddenmoments
Summary: Nine pieces of the aftermath of a battle that they didn't win, not really. Some things might be over, but others are only beginning. Post Seventy Seven Seconds and the first section of Eighty Days, featuring pretty much everybody.
1. Chapter 1

_**Warning for an F-bomb in this first section. Colby's kinda pissy.**_

**Part I - Immediate**

_Events are temporary but the consequences which come next will last forever.  
_  
_i._

Colby has a head start and beats the ambulance to where he can still hear barking, every muscle in his body screaming as he skids to a halt. He doesn't know why, but his eyes take in the huddled civilians with the dog first. His eyes stay on them for what must easily be a minute before sliding towards a huddled mass of shadows.

The blood that soaks the pavement and the clothes of the three men doesn't really register in his mind as he concentrates, seeing the slight rise and fall of a chest (_Ian thank god_). His gaze moves to the next figure that is really two. Billy's hair stands in stark contrast to the darkness and he must move forward because then he's kneeling beside the other man, reaching a hand out for the long, exposed throat and silently urging the familiar features to do something, to _fix _this.

He doesn't know how long he keeps his fingers there waiting for something that's never coming because the next thing he remembers is a pair of hands closing around his shoulders and pulling him to his feet and away from Billy who doesn't budge even when hands reach for him too, and away from Don who doesn't open his eyes, doesn't do anything to stop the men trying to take him from Billy's arms, doesn't do anything.

He hisses, spits, demands that Don wake up and fucking _fix _this.

There is still no response and the keening sound that splits the air is the last thing he remembers as his knees hit the ground and a tremor travels the whole way up his spine.

_ii._

Tommy McLean can't spare the brainpower to process the scene as he slowly tries to remove a completely unresponsive Cooper from the body, as Caruso hauls Granger a few metres away and then crouches by the shivering, terrified looking couple on the corner.

He manages to get the other man's hands free and then uses them to tug him to his feet and towards the fence as the EMTs descend in flashes of fluorescent clothing. The Fugitive Recovery agent's legs don't appear to be able to hold his weight as he slides down the fencepost, eyes fluttering and hands glistening with blood falling against his legs.

Granger growls something, hunching forward with arms half outstretched and then makes a strangled sound before his knees give out. Caruso leaves the couple and grabs the other man's shoulders, yanking him up.

He keeps one eye on Cooper as Betancourt, Sinclair and Warner arrive on scene, pulling his phone out as the EMT closest to him tilts his head towards the gurney and shakes his head just slightly. He gives himself ten seconds to breathe before he hits the number that had never been deleted from his phone, counting down, because getting emotionally involved right now is not even an option.

Megan Reeves picks up on the third ring and he tells her, short and sharp and clipped, that she should probably start heading to the hospital now, and to tell Eppes' family that there are no happy endings in store for them tonight, because Cooper and Granger aren't going to be in any state to explain.

_iii._

Megan's knuckles are white around the steering wheel, the tight grip the only way to stop the bone deep chill from making her entire body quake. Alan's eyes are closed, forehead resting against the glass and low, deep breaths misting the window. Charlie's position is twisted, his face in the curve of Amita's shoulder and neck as tremors visible even in the rearview mirror run down his spine.

Larry is leaning over and has his hand, a single spot of warmth, closed around her knee.

The drive is a blur as the sun rises, sending fingers of light streaking across the road and buildings and reflecting from the panels of the car. If anyone asked how long it took or which way she drove, she wouldn't be able to say.

_iv._

The intern on duty takes in the pinch around the doctor's eyes with a nervous look as he asks if there's something that should be done about the latest DOA. He's never seen a body so battered before and realises that not all deaths are sudden or quiet and easy.

The finger shaped and mottled bruises, the cuts and scrapes and angry looking bullet wounds, it all tells a story that shows how much a human being can hurt another, screams of deliberation and intent. Med school doesn't really prepare you for torture, he realises, and swallows thickly.

Tightly, the doctor says that the man's family is en route and they really should clean him up a little, she just needs a moment. He nods and sets some warm water running with a dash of antiseptic, lays the cloths beside the basin, and returns to her side.

It isn't until he's rinsing the blood from the man's face that he recognises him and feels a sudden tightness in his chest. The doctor is diligently cleaning the shoulder wounds but he doesn't miss the tension that hasn't left her eyes.

Without commenting, he reaches for a razor and takes extra care to keep his hands steady.

All the pictures on the news and in the paper showed him clean shaven, after all, and it might be a little less heartbreaking for the family.

He thinks that the man would probably appreciate the small kindness and is glad that he can give it.

_v_.

A quiet litany of desperate pleas are the only sound other than the wailing emergency sirens and Liz can only hear it because she and Nikki are pressed tightly together in the back seat of David's SUV.

Her hands are folded neatly in her lap, nervous energy gone, and she concentrates on her breathing as Nikki shudders beside her. Colby is ramrod straight in the passenger seat, glassy eyes focused on the road and hands under his thighs.

Billy hadn't even made it into the SUV. Gary Walker had taken over from Tommy McLean and waved David away, shouting that they should go with Edgerton. Her fingers twitch just a little as her hip hits the side door on a particularly sharp turn but then the car is pulling to a stop and Nikki is out almost before it even completely halts.

David's hand closes around her elbow as she grips Colby's forearm and the blinding white lights make her blink. They're sitting down, pacing, sitting down, pacing, her head spins.

All she can think of is the fact that they're in the same building as Don and Ian again, but not really (_Don's gone_), maybe not for long (_Ian could still leave us_), and she has to bite her lip hard enough for it to bleed to hold back the sob.

Colby scratches furiously at his wrists and hands until a passing nurse realises he's broken the skin and seizes his wrists while another guides them towards a smaller room. Liz makes sure that she holds tightly to Colby's hands after they use antiseptic wipes to remove the dried blood.

Megan almost collides with the pacing David when she arrives. Larry and Amita are right behind her and they take seats as no one speaks until David asks where Alan and Charlie are.

Softly, Amita says that they're with Don as a doctor arrives. The sudden interruption, the obvious guard around the man's words, draws all of their attention.

_vi._

Some time later, Billy brings Alan and Charlie into the room and all three men have the same weary, glazed, red-rimmed eyes. Liz almost retches but she can't bring herself to even move an inch while Colby's hands shake steadily in her grip.

It takes another few hours, but eventually another doctor arrives, looking weary.

They've done all they can, they say, and the rest is up to Ian.

* * *

_**Alright, back to it. Might be a couple days with the next one, I have training tonight and what will probably end up being a twelve hour work day tomorrow but this is kind of going somewhere. I think. There were a few tears here, but nowhere near **__SSS __**standards.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Here, have an early post! Not really a very coherent or organised piece. It all came spilling out before I could get to sleep last night and I knew that if I reread it or tried to edit it too many times then I was going to completely scrap it and part of me didn't want that. Also, to the Guest who asked me where the idea came that Colby is blonde? I've just quickly reread everything I've posted and didn't see a mention of his hair colour in any of the pieces at all. I may have missed it though, it wasn't an in depth read. Could you tell me where I say that he's blonde? If I had to though, I **_**would**_** call his hair colour dark blonde because I consider brown or brunette a lot darker. I am getting to the review replies, you're all amazing.**_

**Part II: Hunters**

_i._

It's only when Alan and Charlie are settled back at the Craftsman with Amita and Larry that Billy allows the hunt to settle back into his bones as he murmurs softly, things of little meaning, to the eldest Eppes and ruffles the youngest's hair in an almost unconscious mimicry of a sight that they will never see again.

The door closes behind him and he tilts his head back, allowing the cool night air to breeze across his face. This is no longer a hunt to patch the holes in their pack, no. He knows that at least one hole will never heal.

This is a hunt to sate the burn in their blood and the rage in their hearts, a hunt to slake the thirst for vengeance.

Granger's Dodge is idling, waiting, and the younger man has a look in his eyes that Billy sees in the mirror sometimes. He thinks that the ex-soldier might not be his partner, isn't Don, (_no one ever will be I promise_) might not be a missing limb, but he's enough. Enough for this.

Without words, their hands meet. Fingernails dig into skin, muscles and veins and tendons straining visibly as they grip as hard as they possibly can. If it had been any less of an even match, bones would have been broken.

They aren't, though, and there is instead a silent understanding as somehow, the pressure becomes relief. There is nothing ahead of them, nothing in LA that they haven't left on a sidewalk far away, in a hospital, in the silent house behind them, nothing left ahead of them that they aren't willing to sacrifice, to burn, destroy.

Nothing left but to make sure that justice is done by any means necessary.

They are willing to raze the city to the ground now because everything that matters is behind them, is as safe as it can be.

_ii._

Their first stop is for fuel.

Green eyes are dark and hooded with shadows like the depths of untamed wilderness as a pair of hands that have held life and death, tasted blood and bullets, passed through flame and smoke, tighten around the pump. The woman waiting in the car behind can't suppress the shiver and seriously considers finding another station that isn't occupied by men like these two.

Other people in line, browsing, shopping, scatter as danger in a leather jacket stalks to the cashier. Set deep in a pale face, chips of ice that see through a soul flash as hands still spotted with blood (_have to keep you with me at least until this is done_) slide a pair of crisp notes across the counter. A voice that somehow sounds like wood smoke and thick molasses growls the pump number and no questions are asked as the temperature drops.

The civilians part again, like the red sea before Moses, all the while knowing that biblical heroes don't wear shadow and ice like that and not sure whether the guns visible at their hips are reassuring or not.

_iii_.

It only takes them five hours to find the first of the men they're looking for.

Jittery and frightened, he pulls his gun and takes a shot at them before turning tail and fleeing. The bullet tears into the plaster directly in between them and then Granger is sprinting and Billy knows that he isn't going to catch either man on foot.

The bullet that swiftly finds a home in their target's thigh ends this small chase before it even really had a chance to begin though, and saves him the need to run. That energy is better used as fire in his eyes.

By the time they're done, the man is pale with blood loss and his face is streaked with tears.

Granger leans close, whispering that they might forget to call an ambulance for a little while so he shouldn't go anywhere.

Billy's smile is pleasant when he leans even closer, hot breath ghosting over the side of the man's face and says that they might forget an ambulance all together because it isn't as though there's been a precedent set that involved having mercy. They might call a _friend _of theirs to watch him.

They call Gary Walker instead of an ambulance and are already miles away when the lieutenant arrives with two of his men to investigate the report of a gunshot.

The man was half dead when they arrived, the officers would say later when asked for their perspective of events. When they identified themselves and entered the studio, he proceeded to go into cardiac arrest. Presumably from blood loss and shock, the bullet wound had just barely nicked an artery but the report had been called in some time after the shot was allegedly fired.

No one would ask any more questions, but five people who remained living know that it was fear that killed the man.

_iv_.

The second picks a fight with them ten hours after that. Granger subdues him without hesitating and Billy is again pleased with his choice.

He offers the younger man a nod before he moves in, his fingers digging into the flesh of quivering shoulders, knee against groin, as he slowly, mockingly recites the man's Miranda rights with a voice that drips dark, cold amusement.

In contrast, Granger's voice is like thunder when he grips a kneecap lightly and twists. Low and rumbling, even as a howl of agony splits the air, he says that there are plenty of joints left to play with before he has to resort to being inventive.

When Walker arrives at the next location he is called to, the man is whimpering and sobbing about what the hell do they do to Feds to make them such crazy sons of bitches and how he promises that he will never do anything to hurt another human being again, just don't let them find him.

When the EMTs arrive, the man is loaded into the ambulance with damage to both knees, an ankle, shoulder and wrist. They wouldn't ever know whether the injuries occurred all at the same time and he certainly wasn't interested in pressing countercharges when he was offered a plea deal.

_v._

It takes two days of chasing, a lucky break and a tip off, but Barinelli smiles when he turns and catches sight of Billy.

It takes more effort than he thinks he is capable of, because they haven't slept for longer than a catnap in over three days and his rage is simmering barely below the surface of nonexistent composure, to keep his gun holstered.

The man manages to smile and ask a single question before Granger makes his move from the shadows and they go down in a tangle of limbs.

"How was our dear Don when you finally found him?"

As the name leaves those poisonous lips there is no biting back the teeth-baring snarl, no restraint, no chance that he was going to be able to hold back the vicious one handed swing that knocks Barinelli unconscious.

* * *

_**I really hate Barinelli, especially in the next chapter. I hope this doesn't disappoint, I'm a little unsure about it.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**So glad I have a couple of days before there's even a risk of seeing my almost-Coop because I don't think I'd be able to control myself.**_

**Part III: Lessons and Confessions**

_i._

"Cooper, there is not an agent in this building who doesn't want a shot at this guy. They'll take responsibility for getting it out of him, okay? Your leave has been approved, you don't need to stick around for this. No one expects you to."

"They can get in line for their chance, Wright. There are only five people in this building who really deserve shots and we're taking them. You and whoever else can mop up whatever's left."

"You haven't slept in days and don't even try and bullshit me on that, I've already called Granger on it. Are you going to be able to control yourself in there?"

"I didn't shoot him when we found him, did I? Impulse control."

"The mess you left behind was enough proof that you'd already indulged your impulses. I don't doubt that the pair of you didn't have to try very hard to scare them into talking. This guy though, he's not scared of you. He's going to say all sorts of shit in there to try and get a rise out of you. Betancourt is in the observation room precisely because she couldn't promise me she wouldn't take the bait."

"He's going to gloat when he sees me in there. He wanted revenge and I'm the only party left that is involved. He's going to talk because he wants me to suffer and I'm not letting him get off a single charge just because you're worried I don't have the nerve."

"Talk to Reeves before you go in, she's consulting in a professional capacity. You even look like losing it and I'm putting you on the next plane home, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

_ii._

"Initial thoughts, Dr. Reeves?"

"He's going to go after you. He's going to use Don as a weapon and try and get under your guard."

"He's welcome to try, I don't think there's much of it really left."

"You don't have to do this, you know that? They have a solid enough case and he's the type that will give a confession to any of us if we push enough buttons."

"I'm not letting this drag out any longer than it has to. These guys should be there when Edgerton wakes up, not trying to crack this bastard. He's going to start talking just to rattle me and he isn't going to shut up once we get him going. That's what we need, isn't it?"

"He could say some pretty terrible things, Cooper. Nearly six weeks is a long time and not all the damage would have been the physical kind. You going to be able to keep your head if he starts talking about what they did to Don?"

"Don kept his head through it enough to escape. The least I can do now is sit there and listen to whatever needs to be said. Keep Betancourt out of here until I let the others into the room, will you? They don't need to hear this, it's between me and him."

_iii._

"Guys. Can I have ten minutes in there alone? Just want to get some pleasantries over and done with before we get down to business."

"You let us know when you want us in and we'll be there."

"Will do. Wait out here, okay? Some of this you won't want to hear."

_iv._

"Agent Cooper, what a delight. Our last encounter was far too brief."

"Probably for the best, you would have ended up in a body bag otherwise."

"You certainly did an admirable job keeping your temper in check, I was very surprised. It seems that you've done some growing up. Remind me, how long has it been since your cowboy days with Agent Eppes?"

"You've obviously kept a close eye on things, why don't you tell me?"

"Oh, brava! That was impressive work on McDowd and Williams when you came back to LA, by the way. Such a touching reunion, and you fell back into your partnership so easily. It was hard to leave, wasn't it? You took the longest way to Arizona, it was quite amusing."

"Why didn't you grab us both then, if this is about revenge? We were both in the same place, same time, working together."

"The thought crossed my mind, I'll admit. There were ample opportunities, but I didn't have the heart when you'd only just reunited."

"Would have been a better revenge, if you ask me. What better way to avenge Cicero and Dunstan than taking out both the agents responsible for their deaths? If you took me as well, you probably wouldn't have ever been found, no one else would have made the connection. It took us long enough as it was."

"You and I have different ideas on vengeance, Agent Cooper. I wanted both of you to suffer, not just remove you from the world. I could have had you shot years ago if that was what I intended."

"So you take Don and Ian and play leapfrog across the county, have your goons break them, and then when you know they've been found, make the stupid decision to surface and get recognised? You had to have known I would be coming after you."

"I only really needed Agent Eppes to achieve my end, but the sniper, Agent Edgerton, well, he presented too neat a target to resist. It wouldn't have been difficult to grab one of the others that are standing outside either, but they aren't enough like you for it to have worked as well as it did. Subordinates. I wanted to destroy another partnership. In hindsight, the one you had with you may have done just as nicely, but I achieved my ends. They made a lovely picture, you know, halfway to broken and both still trying to protect the other, be the alpha that they both had to be. It kept them going far longer than we anticipated."

"So Edgerton was because you couldn't get to me and needed a substitute? Your resources must be pretty depleted if you can't grab someone who works mostly alone and in all sorts of remote places."

"Oh, you misunderstand. Edgerton was for Eppes' benefit. Can you imagine how torturous it was for a man like him to fail repeatedly to protect a partner and be unable to stop trying?"

"Just another tool to break him."

"Precisely. You should have seen his face when I told him that the final lesson was going to be for you, it was rather wonderful just how much fury he managed to drag up considering the state he was in. That's how my nose got broken."

"Pity the bone didn't pierce your brain. The fact that you're still breathing makes _me _beyond furious. What was my lesson then?"

"Aha, Agent Cooper, that's cheating. One of my people described the day that you and Agent Eppes caught up with Cicero and Dunstan to me, the fact that he didn't hesitate to fire when it became clear that they intended to shoot you. Do you think we'd be sitting here if you hadn't allowed yourself to be overpowered?"

"They were going away for life. It didn't matter what happened that day, you were never going to have them back."

"Yes, I understand that. They died though, because you allowed yourself to be overpowered and your partner had to take their lives to preserve yours. If they'd been taken alive, I don't believe we would be sitting here right now. Perhaps you would still have your partner."

"You made sure that Don would relive his failure to get Ian out of there over and over again before he died. That was his lesson, wasn't it? You didn't intend to kill Ian, you just wanted Don to die feeling like he failed that day. You told him that you were going to teach me a lesson, like you were going to come after me and made sure he felt like he failed to stop you, but you'd already begun."

"You never were stupid, either of you. It was part of what has made this so satisfying. Do you know what your lesson is yet?"

"Loss. Consequences. What happens when you make mistakes. You wanted one of us to have to live with the consequences of that day and I wasn't the one that pulled the trigger but it was still because of me."

"Very good. We're almost there, Agent Cooper. Do you wish you'd died that day yet?"

_v._

"_Shit. __David, Colby,_ _get him out of there right now_!"

* * *

_**Oh Coop. You should have just let someone else do it.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Part IV: Remembrance**

_**Massive tissue warning for the end section.**_

_i._

There was perhaps only one reason in the world that they would risk Ian waking up alone after Barinelli had been dealt with, and that time comes all too soon.

A middle-aged nurse who is coming off shift as they try to muster the resolve to leave offers to personally stay in the room with him until one of them returns. Liz thanks her softly as Nikki squeezes Ian's hand tightly. Colby and David wait by the door.

Familiar staff offer their condolences as the team walk down halls they know all too well by now towards the exit. Gary Walker is waiting for them and David takes a moment as they get into the lieutenant's car to marvel at the solidarity every law enforcement officer in LA has shown.

Differences in uniform don't matter when one of their own, a protector and defender, is taken like this. The badges on the outside, what they wear over their skin, none of it matters anymore because what is under their skin is all the same.

His loss is their loss, at least for now.

_ii._

Walker shifts the car into park when they reach the building and none of them seem particularly ready to unbuckle their seatbelts and leave the vehicle.

Colby moves first, the click of his belt release painfully loud in the silence. It's going to happen whether or not they're there, he says, and there are people waiting that need them to be stronger than this. The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

Nikki is the second to move, sliding out of the car, and Liz follows. They disappear quickly into the people milling around the entrance.

David has to brace himself against the side of the car for a few seconds when he stands, and takes a deep breath as Walker's hand lands on his shoulder. The older man looks tired when David meets his eyes but his voice is steady when he says that today is when the wounds will begin to scab over, when he realises that they'll scar, but they won't weep blood like this forever.

Nodding, David takes another deep breath and the two men move towards where Colby has already found Billy Cooper and Tim King.

_iii._

She's tired enough that when she hears a familiar voice say her name, she jumps just a little. Nikki's response is instant, moving closer to her side and eyes alert.

Liz's eyes focus on two faces she certainly hadn't expected to see. Nikki relaxes beside her as she instantly reaches out towards her mother, who wordlessly folds her into an embrace as her heart thrums like a hummingbird in her chest.

The tall young man beside them has Liz's colouring and similar enough features to leave little doubt as to his identity. He introduces himself as Daniel to Nikki, shaking her hand firmly. She returns the handshake and for a moment wishes that it was her own brother's hand but while he cares about her, she doesn't think that looking for sympathy, understanding, there would be wise. He's grown up but you can't take the street out of the boy.

When her mother releases her, Liz's cheeks are wet. Daniel pulls her towards him and her head falls into his shoulder. Nikki offers a nod before looking away as her partner begins to shake in her brother's arms.

This isn't for her eyes, so they find David because she needs a centre in this storm.

_iv_.

Megan stays close to Alan and Charlie as people begin to file past them, offering short, heartfelt condolences, into the pews. She can tell that Charlie isn't really with them, the absent look in his eyes almost a relief when she considers the raw pain in Alan's.

Gleaming mahogany peeks out from under the draped blue, red and white flag and five frames are arranged, standing neatly atop it. Her eyes drift across them.

The family portrait is on the far left, proud parents with sons as different as sun and moon but somehow still the same. She thinks that she would have liked to have met the mother of the young men in that photo.

Two men, not brothers but something much deeper, something primal, visceral, something born in blood and adrenaline and unwavering trust, smile out of the next frame. Those smiles are blinding on their own, and she should know, but together there is something that makes her breath hitch in her chest.

The middle frame is the largest, a figure in blue and white with baseball bat in mid-swing. Scrawled initials across the base in the corner of the frame make her blink back a tear when she realises what might have been. She thinks of youth, strength, vitality and dreams sacrificed.

Her own face beams at her from the fourth, surrounded by similar smiles and cheeks crinkled and dimpled with laughter. Arms are slung around shoulders and it somehow looks like another kind of family portrait.

The fifth is the same, with faces that are a little less familiar but with no less of a bond than the previous photo or the family portrait. One of the faces smiling out of the frame should be there now, she knows, but is still locked in his head, struggling to come back to them, back to a sterile white room to heal.

Part of her is glad for him, that he doesn't have to endure this.

_v_.

Nearly eighteen years of fear hasn't prepared him for this day but if he's brutally honest, there is relief underneath the pain. He doesn't have to fear it anymore. The day is here now and all he has to do is make it through and know that everything he's been terrified of losing is already gone and he can't lose it again.

There's nothing more the world can do to hurt his son and somewhere in him, Alan finds solace in that fact because there isn't anyone who deserves peace more than his eldest child.

_vi_.

Amita's hand is warm in Charlie's, the cool metal of her wedding band distracting against his skin. It gives him something to focus on as people reach for his other hand, squeeze it, murmur soft words that have no meaning because in his mind, this isn't really happening.

He recognises some of the faces; agents, friends, civilians and victims from cases. Karen Fisher is there, little Daniel Shay who isn't so little anymore, Leah Wexford's son, the Burdick family. Ethan Burdick's grip on his hand is especially tight and he wonders whether the man has come any closer with his work on Riemann's hypothesis. He makes a mental note to ask the man later, when all these people stop _bothering_ him.

He's watching from outside himself, because his father doesn't really look that old and those photos aren't really the five they'd chosen to try and represent a life that couldn't ever be boiled down to so little.

This isn't really happening because soon his phone is going to ring or a familiar figure is going to appear in the back of the room like he always does in Charlie's classroom and they're going to have to work together on a case.

When the rabbi begins speaking in Hebrew, Charlie is already thinking of the applications of Bayesian filters and game theory to murder cases and wondering whether Billy will have anything to add about when they suspect an escaped fugitive.

_vii._

Billy doesn't really hear anything that Philip Wright says when the man steps up after the rabbi, but he knows that it would have been something about honour and duty, about a deep and abiding sense of justice and a leader that made everyone around him strive to be better.

He knows that the same things have to be said for every agent who falls on active duty and it doesn't matter how true they might be, there are more important things to be said, to be made known.

Instead of listening, he relives his own memories, his own thoughts, and makes sure to cement them in his mind because he won't ever forget.

Philip Wright talks about a young man who excelled at everything he attempted, who graduated Quantico with his pick of assignments and who embodied fidelity, bravery, integrity.

Billy remembers two young men who got drunk one night between fugitives in Chicago and turned their effortless flattery and Southern charm onto a pair of women who turned out to be far more interested in each other than either of the young men, who were relentless, fearless, guileless, in a way that should have got them both killed a thousand times over before now.

David Sinclair talks about a man who managed to be both a boss and a friend, who opened his heart and his home to his agents, a man who made a team into a family.

Billy remembers long days and nights where two young men far away from their homes bared their hearts and souls like they never had before, like they never would again and _made _each other the closest thing to a family, to home, that they could when they lived out of cars and cheap motel rooms and gas station restrooms.

Gary Walker talks about a man who might just be the most stubborn and resourceful federal agent he's ever known, who would stand his ground to the end and still be the one to drive you home when you finished pouring expensive scotch over the grave of a long gone old friend.

Billy remembers a young man who made them wait in a graveyard for days because of a hunch, who would run on fumes for however long it took to do what needed to be done, still be the one to match his partner shot for shot, shout for shout and blow for blow when there was nowhere else for the adrenaline and testosterone to go and be the first to offer a smile the next day.

Megan Reeves talks about a man who was something different to everyone sitting there, who was somehow the most complicated but simple man she ever knew and became, over the years, the brother she never had.

His turn comes and Billy stands up and suddenly can't find the words to talk about the man he knows that he's going to spend the rest of his life missing because some people never find what he's lost. Some people never have someone to anchor their soul when in darkness that sometimes felt like it could devour someone whole and never know that _they_ did the same in return.

So instead of talking about him, Billy says a quiet, simple goodbye to the man who will always be his best friend and partner and somehow, that says it all.

* * *

_**It might be raining on my face a little. Maybe a lot. I hope I did this justice.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Part V: First Steps**

_**This one was kind of confusingly gut-wrenching to write but hopefully less difficult to read**_.

_i._

Alan doesn't think he has any tears left as Megan, hand tucked into his elbow, helps him into the passenger seat of his own car and out of the rain. Larry and Amita manage to get a rattled looking Charlie in between them in the back seat and Alan thinks briefly that maybe reality has finally sunk through the layers of numbers in Charlie's brain.

He doesn't have the energy to try and make his son talk, however, so he leans against the window and wonders if the sky is crying the tears that he can't. Megan asks softly whether they would like the radio on and he stops her hand, because there is a CD in the player and he thinks that he'd like to listen to it right now.

She nods in understanding and lets it start automatically as she turns the key in the ignition.

The familiar music of the first track starts and if he sings quietly under his breath, no one says a word.

_ii._

There are cars there already when they arrive at the Craftsman, the sun peeking out from behind clouds.

Charlie is climbing out with the five picture frames clutched to his chest when Billy pulls into the driveway behind them. The tall agent is just quick enough to catch one before it slips from the mathematician's arms onto the driveway.

He slides it back into Charlie's arms and offers Alan a distracted nod as he turns to guide the younger man towards the house.

Larry quietly says that the easy slide of the agent's arm over Charlie's shoulder and Charlie's unquestioning acceptance of the guidance reminds him of Don when they had consulted on difficult cases. Megan nods, and shifts to Alan's other side to guide him after Billy and Charlie, following them towards the house.

Gary Walker arrives next with Colby, Liz and Liz's mother and brother. David's sister pulls up on the other side of the street with David, his grandmother and Nikki. The group slowly make their way across the lawn.

By the time they enter the house, Alan is already pulling trays of finger food out of the fridge with a single-minded determination while Amita and Megan do their best to assist without getting in the way.

Billy and Charlie are standing at the mantelpiece, carefully putting the photos back in their rightful place. Larry hovers uncertainly between the dining room and living room and as he enters, Gary Walker takes pity on him and engages him in conversation. The headache he's sure to end up with by the time he gets home will be another reason to crack open that bottle of expensive scotch that has been sitting on his kitchen counter for the last three days.

David introduces his grandmother and sister to Alan quietly, and his grandmother firmly bases herself in the kitchen, managing with a gentle smile and soft words what Amita and Megan hadn't as David leads the older man into the living room.

When they are introduced, he meets Liz's mother's eyes. Louise, he says calmly, pleasure to meet you. He shakes Daniel's hand firmly, and when Liz's arms go around his neck, he holds her to him tightly for a moment.

She murmurs a litany of quiet apologies for not trying harder and Alan understands that she isn't talking about failing to find his son in time. God, does he understand, he says just as softly. Sometimes there was nothing you could do against that stubborn streak and he knows, is so grateful, that she tried.

_iii._

Other agents arrive, as do a handful of old friends and scattered family members. The crowd splits between the house and the back yard with a wary eye on the sky.

Aunt Irene hugs, kisses, cries on Alan and then Charlie, leaving lipstick on their faces and tearstains on their shirts.

Charlie finds himself in the front yard as the sun begins to sink lower in the sky. He strips his suit jacket off, hanging it from a tree branch, and settles against the trunk with his knees up to his chest and damp grass beneath him.

The numbers are dancing out of reach again, crowded out by what he's slowly beginning to realise is reality.

When Billy settles himself down beside him, long legs bent and arms draped over the smooth fabric of dress pants, Charlie isn't even startled. He's had years to get used to the uncanny ability of theirs to move like ghosts regardless of their size.

He says that he isn't sure he's going to be able to do this.

He hasn't gone for P vs. NP yet, Billy says calmly. Don would be pretty pissed if he did and left Alan to deal with this alone.

Blinking, Charlie nods and says that he always knew Don hated his retreat into numbers.

Didn't hate it, Billy says, stretching out on his back, flicking his sunglasses down onto his face and looking up at the sun through the branches of the tree. Didn't understand it at first, for sure, but mostly he would just be mad if Alan's last line of defence didn't do his best because that was what Charlie was, if he didn't know.

Charlie's confused silence is enough for Billy to continue. Margaret had been the first line to fall, he says. Don tried, gave up Kim and Albuquerque to reinforce it, but when Margaret died he was the new first line. His voice is steady as he says that something they couldn't control took down that line and now Charlie is Alan's only line of defence left.

Confessing that he's spent his whole life trying to impress his brother is enough for the tears to begin to sting his eyes. He doesn't know if he ever succeeded.

He sees Billy nod, and lift himself up on an elbow. He knows, he says, but all he really needs to do to make Don really proud is to stay with it, to hold it together, to keep making something of himself like he always has.

They fall silent and watch the sun drop further in the sky.

_iv._

Billy pulls Alan aside after a couple of hours and quietly says that he's going to leave. He's got a seat on a late flight and he has some loose ends at the office to tie up before he flies out later that night.

Alan nods, his chest tightening a little as he asks whether he's said goodbye to Charlie yet. Billy nods and looks him straight in the eyes, saying that Charlie is going to be fine and to make sure he looks after himself too. He tucks a folded piece of paper into the chest pocket of Alan's shirt and pats it once, saying that he'll return calls whenever he can.

The smile he gives in farewell has a twin on the mantelpiece and somewhere in it Alan finds a little of Don, so he makes sure to remember it.

* * *

_**I don't know how I can make myself cry when I know exactly what I'm writing. These characters do me in.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Short but kind of an emotional rollercoaster, depending on how attached you are to the characters.**_

**Part VI: Ying and Yang**

_i._

Colby is the only one in the room, having come straight from the wake and Billy's departure, when Ian begins to stir after being motionless for nearly a week.

His eyes snap open suddenly and Colby leans over, heart pounding as he presses the call button for the nurse. He meets Ian's eyes and says his name gently, seeing a flash of confusion. Ian blinks as if to say that he understands, and the sudden rush of relief makes him smile. The feeling is foreign but he holds it stubbornly.

Only for a moment, though, because Ian's breathing quickens as panic sets in and he starts fighting against the tube in his mouth and throat. Colby reaches for his wrists, heart breaking as the man struggles and he barely has to hold them down. There was a day that he would have been flat on his back, winded and bruised for simply attempting to restrain him. He tells Ian to calm down, tells him that he's okay and the tube is just helping him breathe, says that it's all going to be okay as though he believes it.

It seems like forever before he can loosen his grip as a confused resignation seems to settle over the other man. The nurse arrives and begins to remove the tube, speaking gently to Ian, but his eyes don't leave Colby's face.

Colby knows the exact moment when Ian recognises him, he sees the flash of awareness and feels a swell of emotion that he can't identify but then the eyes are closed again.

He doesn't leave though, and Ian wakes again an hour later. He says quietly that he's really glad to finally see Ian awake even as he sees the agony in the other man's eyes and does his best to choke back the grief in his throat because Don's dead and Ian's so broken that he can already see it and every time he closes his eyes he sees blood and feels cold skin under his fingers.

Ian turns his head to the side and Colby can't blame him, he must look a fright. He wraps his hand around Ian's and squeezes lightly. A tear slips down his face, a quiet half-sob escapes and he thinks that if he could move, he would have to leave, but he can't so he stays and watches as scenes from a horror movie that couldn't ever be imagined play out across his eyes.

Knowing that he's lived those scenes, instigated some, is more than enough for the floodgates to break.

_ii._

When the others arrive to take over the next morning and enter the room after talking to the nurses, they find Colby dozing fitfully in the chair, face pale and stained with dried tears. Liz wakes him with gentle hands and David helps him to his feet.

Liz's mother and brother wait in the hallway, conversing in low voices. Nikki offers to stay for the day and David says he'll just help Liz get Colby home and then come back to join her.

Liz's arm winds around Colby's ribs and David's around his shoulders, the contact as much for comfort as support and as much for themselves as for Colby, who blearily tells them that Ian woke up a couple of times.

They know, Liz says quietly, and they're sure that Ian was really glad to have him there. He rasps out a bitter chuckle and says that it should have been someone else who could have been really glad instead of falling to pieces.

David stops in the middle of the hallway and uses his arm to twist the younger man to face him. He tells him to shut up and look at him, right now, because after everything they've all done and endured, there is no shame in falling to pieces. His voice cracks when he says that making it sound like that is belittling their loss and Don and Ian both deserve better than that.

Colby swallows thickly and falls silent as they begin to walk again because he doesn't think he's ready to talk about the feel of a man's bones shattering under his fingers or how scared he is that there's no coming back from this.

David spends the whole drive wondering how on earth they're going to make it through this if they're already falling apart.

Liz spends the whole drive with her fingers tangled in Colby's and trying desperately _not _to wonder, not to think about anything other than the warm hand in hers and this moment right now.

Her mother and brother are just sad, sad that after everything the four agents have endured in the last seven weeks, it seems like their suffering isn't even close to over.

_iii_.

Ian wakes around noon, and Nikki almost drowns in her relief and joy.

She's proud that her voice only trembles a little as she says his name. It feels like an answered prayer as he blinks at her and she grips his hand, relishing in the feel of long, familiar fingers under hers.

Wobbly and watery, she smiles when she feels them curl against hers, just a little but enough.

More than enough, she amends as she curls her own a little tighter, because she'd been so scared for so long that she wouldn't have even that much ever again.

The tears spill when he rasps her name and her face _hurts _from smiling.

* * *

_**I think that is actually the first time I've ever finished a part on a note that isn't either angst or at least **_**tension**_**. What do you know, maybe I'm going to stop putting them through hell constantly! I don't think it counts with what I did to Colby though.**__**There may be a delay with the next chapter, I have a horridly busy couple of days ahead of me and I don't want to promise that it'll be posted tomorrow when it is entirely possible that I'm going to spend the next forty eight hours wishing I could have caffeine intravenously and not even be able to think about anything aside from work and training, both of which I have assessments/practicals for.**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_Some more cussing in here but it's Tim and he really just doesn't care. I figure SWAT agents aren't exactly bothered with appealing to polite society._**

**Part VII: Reveal**

_i._

"Reeves. Got anything for me?"

"Typical henchman. Seems to be a little smarter than your usual brawny type, I don't think he'll give you much trouble if you scare him enough."

"Doesn't sound like your typical advice, what happened to all the building rapport bullshit?"

"Every time I look at him I think about what Don and Ian must have felt whenever they saw him and I realise that I don't really care about trying to minimise his distress. We just need him to agree to testify against Barinelli. His teeth annoy me."

"You're still FBI to your bones, Reeves. Roger that."

_ii._

"Right, I'm in no mood to play any stupid games with you. I have things to do, doors to kick down and scum to shoot at when they don't listen to me. So here are your options, okay? You either give us enough to put a needle in your boss' arm or it'll be going into yours. I want you to tell me what he ordered you and your buddies to do to those agents."

"If you've got somewhere more important to be, then by all means."

"Mario, is it? Well, Mario, my name is Tim and here's some friendly advice. Don't test my patience because that would be a really bad idea."

"What are you going to give me?"

"A chance to one day get out of prison not enough? You criminals get more and more demanding every goddamn time. Well, let's see what our options are. I could just let you loose, I guess."

"You'd cut me loose?"

"Yeah. I'd have to inform Eppes' team that we didn't have enough to hold you. They're really good at what they do, did you know? One of the top three solve rates for VC units in the whole country. Finding you wouldn't be difficult for them at all, they're frightening even when you're on their side. I'd probably even lend a hand just because I don't like you. They're a little bloodthirsty lately, fast and loose and no one really has the heart to rein them in."

"Aren't you guys supposed to be above shit like vengeance?"

"Shit like vengeance? I think this ranks higher than that. That bandage around your fat gut proves that you were probably just as responsible for Don Eppes' death as your boss and well, there isn't a law enforcement officer in the fucking _world_ that isn't baying for blood after that. His team though, they learned from some of the best and I imagine Edgerton would have some things he'd like to say and do to you too, when he's up and about again. "

"... you have to obey the law. All of you do, otherwise how do you even pretend to not be criminals yourselves?"

"You don't sound too sure on that, Mario. The law didn't seem to bother you or your buddies, but I don't imagine you thought you'd get caught, did you? I can think of some people that wouldn't get caught. There are lots of people who are almost beyond pissed, I don't imagine we'd ever know for sure who did what."

"Look. It wasn't our idea. We just followed orders. He told us that he'd make sure those agents were the ones to respond and we just had to make sure there was enough of a distraction for Garrett and the guys to grab the two he wanted."

"We already knew that. What happened next?"

"Garrett was in charge for the first couple weeks. He took a real shine to the job, only rules were that he couldn't kill them. Seen guys break after a couple days of that treatment before but didn't matter what he did, they kept fighting back."

"What did your boss tell him to do?"

"Break them by any means necessary, he just had to make sure they didn't die too early."

"So he took those instructions to heart? What did he do?"

"Yeah. Hit them around, talked shit to them about how their friends weren't coming. Tried to use them against each other. It didn't work though, they went kind of weird towards the end but Garrett said the boss had some kind of big finale planned that was going to break that Cooper guy as well as them."

"So he was planning to torture and then execute them when they escaped? Sounds like a real nice guy."

"I guess. We were following the car they were in, we stopped off for a leak though and got a bit behind. Found the signs of the crash and started tracking them. Every time they tried to escape before the boss would say that we had to bring them in alive. They killed half a dozen of us trying to get away, Garrett was pissed."

"So this time you decided that to hell with it, you were going to kill them anyway?"

"Never got a chance. Dunno how but they stayed one step ahead. You won't be able to pin the dead one on me, he was definitely alive when I went down."

"Oh, your boss is most definitely going down for that but you're delusional if you think there's a jury out there who won't find you complicit in it. You'll be _lucky _if you don't get the injection too. The ones who died there were probably luckiest."

"I didn't kill the guy, there's no way they'd give me the injection for hitting him around a little. I didn't even get off a shot at that one but even if my bullet was in him, he was alive long after I went down! You said if I talked I'd get off lighter!"

"Shut your fucking mouth, I'm tired of your voice. Don't go anywhere, someone will be in here with papers."

_iii._

"He'll testify. If he tries to back out, let me know. I'm sure I can convince him otherwise."

"Good work, King. I appreciate it."

"If I didn't, Granger would have and the kid's been through too much lately. That whole team has. They aren't back yet, are they?"

"Got other agents covering the caseloads right now. I don't know how much longer I can give them, maybe another couple weeks and then do it rotationally or something. They won't want to leave Edgerton."

"They shouldn't. Let my boys know if there's anything we can do to help."

"Noted. Thanks, on their behalf as well."

"You fuck with one of us, Wright, you fuck with all of us and it doesn't matter what badges we wear, Eppes was one of us."

* * *

**_So I'm not exactly happy with this but I am too tired to think properly about why I don't like it. The hell is over, at least briefly. It's Tuesday evening and I think I've slept about eight hours since I woke up Sunday morning. Didn't manage to convince a medical professional that a caffeine IV was a good idea but I did drink enough of the stuff that it's probably likely there was more of it in my body than actual blood. Did well at both things, turns out I panicked way more than was necessary, but I'll let you guys be the judge of this!_**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Six befores._**

**Part VIII: Pre**

_Indecision_

Alan knows that it isn't a social call from the set of David's face, he's seen that look on his own son's face countless times before and well, David might as well be a son by this point.

He easily recognises the slightly vacant look in Colby's eyes as the influence of painkillers, he's come to know that hazy expression far too well over the course of his life so far.

The tight set of Liz's mouth tells him more than he really wants to know and he marvels again at how unnecessary words are when you've been hoping for nearly eighteen years that this moment never comes.

Nikki isn't nearly as easy a read as the others yet but he isn't blind to the sporadic shaking in her hands and knees which he knows is excess adrenaline, he's seen them all struggle with the come down before.

When the moment is over, he realises that it wasn't really the moment he's been dreading for nearly eighteen years and he doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not anymore.

_Avoidance_

Megan Reeves is wondering whether two meringues in as many hours is excessive and then, how excessive is too excessive. Her pros and cons list for the idea is a textbook example of avoidance and she shoots her obstinately closed laptop a dirty look for reducing her to this.

Her television is on in the background and she wholeheartedly blames the unfinished paper saved to said laptop for the sudden rush of excitement when she catches a mention of FBI agents in Los Angeles. She immediately reaches for the remote and toggles the volume higher.

The news anchor is usually a fairly jolly looking young man but he is uncharacteristically solemn this particular evening as he explains the events of earlier in the day, events that led to the death of eight criminals and capture of three more, culminating in the abduction of two senior FBI agents.

Megan recognises the ponytail in the corner of the frame and what is visible of the sandy-haired man behind the medical officers as the AD gives a statement and feels suddenly nauseous. She doesn't want meringues anymore and part of her wishes she'd just done her paper instead.

_Dare_

None of them dare to touch Don's desk.

The paperwork is in the same pile it was when they left the office a week ago and there is a pale blue memo about a meeting stuck to the computer screen that flutters whenever the air vent overhead is angled just right.

Billy sits in Don's chair sometimes when they're cramped for space but not even he dares to touch the desk. There is a space clear in the corner that Ian would lean up against or perch on and they don't even dare to place anything there.

If someone were to ask them why, they wouldn't be able to answer but a little bit of each of them wants something to remain the same, for them to have one last memory of Don's desk and Ian's spot that was the same as when Don and Ian were still there.

When they had that memory, it still wasn't enough so they continue to leave it alone because the last time they'd all sat around it together might have been the very last time they ever did.

They wouldn't admit it but they still don't dare to disturb it, just in case.

_Instructions_

Colby writes a post it note for Billy the first time the other man offers to do a coffee run.

_D – w & 0._  
_N - b & 1.  
L - w & 2 if anyone asks but really 4.  
C - w & really 2._

He returns with five takeaway Styrofoam cups. David and Nikki thank him but Billy and Colby both watch before they take theirs, as Liz takes a tentative sip before her eyes narrow just a little, crinkle slightly and the corners of her mouth turn up.

Colby sees the orange corner sticking out of Billy's wallet every now and again and it never fails to make his lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile

_Human_

It isn't the first time but it might as well be for the anxiety roiling in his stomach when Larry calls Megan on day thirty two.

She answers the phone on the second ring and doesn't even wait for his usual greeting before saying that she just submitted her last paper and has a seat on a flight to LAX that gets in at quarter after ten the next morning and will he please pick her up?

He nods before remembering that she can't see him, and then says yes three times. He tells her that Billy and Colby were so close this time and that there is part of him that wishes he were still in space and does that make him a terrible person?

She laughs and even the humourless sound is enough to lift the corners of his lips as she tells him that all it makes him is human. He poses the idea that being human doesn't make him anything else than terrible by nature. She doesn't contradict him but simply reminds him that whatever being human means at least he isn't alone because they, all of them, are human too.

_Call_

It isn't long after five am when Megan gets the phone call from Tommy McLean. If someone asked, she wouldn't be able to put words to a single thing that went through her mind during the conversation that lasted a little longer than a minute. All she can focus on is the fact that she has to tell Alan that it's finally over, that they _know_now, just not how and what they'd been hoping for.

There isn't a single part of her that doesn't ache, burn with the urge to be out there with them. To be able to see, touch, know it herself instead of second hand through a broken phone call. She wants anything but to be the one standing in the familiar living room while Charlie fixes her with dark, vacant eyes and the man who might as well have been her surrogate father these last five years even from across the country waits patiently for her to gather her composure.

Anything but to be the one blinking, trying to steady her pounding heart and heaving lungs long enough to tell them that yes, they're bringing Don home but not really because they lost him on a sidewalk somewhere far away and all they have to bring home is a body.

* * *

**_So, pretty sure this is winding up. One more chapter and then everything I initially had planned has been done. It's been a pretty awesome ride, hasn't it? If all of you have enjoyed it half as much as me, anyway. It feels weird to know that I've ticked that last box on the list I started that Monday afternoon that feels like forever ago. I don't intend to stop writing though, I just need to figure out the who, what, when, where, why and how! Any ideas?_**


	9. Chapter 9

**_Six afters, because their lives and everything in them will forever be befores and afters._**

**Part XI: Post**

_Salute_

In four pairs they bear the closed casket upon their shoulders with arms across each other's backs, straight spines and focused gazes with a uniform glassiness. Left, right, left, right; their steps unfalteringly synchronised as they pass pew upon pew.

The blue, red and white of the flag draped over the mahogany seems almost offensively bright as it flutters in the brief wind as the doors open and they make their way down the steps. When they lower it into place for the last leg of its journey, seven fall back into the lines on either side of the path. One stays, hesitating, and it doesn't matter that there is an audience when this is the last chance he's ever going to get.

Bowing his head, he brings three fingers to his lips and then touches them to the polished wood, murmuring a soft _sleep tight, partner _before taking his place in line, a deep breath and leading the slow, steady march across the damp grass.

Eight shoulders willingly bear a load they wish they never had to one final time and watch the sun glance off the wood just before the earth covers it completely. The clouds roll overhead and a single rain drop falls from the suddenly grey sky, rolling down smooth stone.

Rifles are raised, fired in salute, and the heavens open.

_Ice_

Billy Cooper doesn't leave LA straight away.

Protocol matters to some people, but luckily the guards that night aren't those people and all it takes is a nod and they're letting him into the cell.

The man on the low cot opens his eyes slowly as Billy enters, and the flash of real fear in his eyes should be more satisfying than it is. It slips behind a mask of cool indifference quickly enough but it doesn't really matter, Billy didn't come here to gloat. He has very little left in the world to gloat about, and the thought is enough for his lips to curl and his teeth to flash in the dim lighting.

When they take him to Terre Haute, he says quietly, there will be four others there, watching. Not for pleasure, not for satisfaction, although he admits that there would be little more satisfying in the world than to slit his throat here and now, but for closure and relief.

The man calmly asks Billy why he is there.

His lips curl again, just barely, as he says that he's there to make sure that the man spends his last days knowing that when death comes, it will be cold in his veins and only then will the real judgement begin.

_Memory_

Over the course of a life, there are plenty of unforgettable moments, those memories that bolster flagging spirits and warm your blood better than any shot of whiskey. Colby knows better than most that the opposite is true too, knows the crystal cold clarity of memories that will never fail to tighten your throat and make your blood freeze in your veins.

He has lots of them, lurking in the part of his brain that is in between.

Between awake and asleep, focused and distracted. The voice that whispers to him, tells him that the blood will never wash away, the sound of RPGs will never fade, that he won't ever stop flinching when a car backfires even if his iron will handles the flashbacks.

Somehow, after all of those years of horror and fear, the image that burns itself clearest into his eyelids, the one that he knows he really won't ever escape, is when he sees the reflection of tears on two faces, one contorted in agony, the other still.

He knows that he won't ever forget, that he doesn't want to ever forget, Billy's white knuckled grip holding Don's forehead against his own, the shuddering breath making his whole body shake. He won't ever forget the moment when the truth hit him.

_Dealing_

The doctors tell them that Ian is physically recovered enough to go home but mentally is another matter entirely. They shouldn't leave him unsupervised at first, one doctor says, as much for their own safety as for Ian's. It takes more than six weeks in safety and surrounded by affection to undo six weeks of terror and pain.

They're sure that somwhere in him, he knows about Don, another doctor says, but they must be prepared for him to struggle with his memories even as his body recovers, must expect his behaviours to vacillate wildly between ones that they know and ones that belong to a small, scared child.

Oddly enough, Colby and Liz are the best equipped to deal with this. David's memories of his childhood and siblings are worlds away and Nikki, the middle of three, has little experience with children. Colby's nieces and nephews hold him in good stead while Liz, the eldest of four, was ten when her first brother was born.

Soft voices and gentle hands come easily to them when the inevitable episodes strike. Nikki does her best, because it's Ian, and all David can do is watch over all of them.

They deal as best they can because there isn't any other option.

_Sometimes_

Sometimes David thinks it might have been better if they'd lost Ian completely, because he knows that somewhere in there, the man hates what he's been reduced to. Ian isn't the only one that wakes gasping and sobbing from nightmares though, they are all grown men and women that find themselves helpless at the mercy of night terrors.

Sometimes he's astonished at the sheer strength, the nerve in the face of inconceivable pain.

Sometimes he sees the haunting, agonising truth reflected in steel irises. He knows the truth now, has watched the debriefing recording and read Ian's statement. He knows about the days and nights that blended seamlessly, how knees knocking together or the tangle of fingers helped hold reality steady, how desperately two of the strongest men he'll ever know depended on each other to keep their sanity.

Sometimes he thinks that wherever Don's soul ended up, it is missing a part because surely some of Ian's strength has to come from the other man.

Sometimes fanciful notions and wishful thinking are okay, he reasons, because after all this tangible suffering, it isn't surprising that they fall back on intangible hoping. When he and Ian are sitting alone in the garden on a clear, calm day and a gentle wind blows across their faces before fading away as though it had never been there, he thinks it might just not be so intangible after all.

_Reunite_

The doorbell rings one evening in March, and Ian is the closest so when he answers it to see Alan and Charlie standing there, there is a moment of dumbfounded silence as the three men look at each other.

Alan steps forward first, folding Ian into a slow, deliberate embrace.

The taller man returns it hesitantly, breathing a soft apology for so many things that he can't find the words for and Alan shakes his head, says that no, Ian isn't the one who should be apologising, that he owes it to both Ian _and_ Don and he's very sorry it's taken him this long.

Charlie's fingers hesitantly close around Ian's shoulder and he says that it's really good to see him looking so well. There is nothing in his voice and eyes but sincerity and Ian's chest tightens because he didn't think he was ever going to see Don's eyes, even in another face, ever again.

A throat clears, and the three men release each other. Amita, Megan and Larry are standing a little further down the front path, smiling. Megan moves forward, hugging Ian tightly and saying that they would very much appreciate a tour.

* * *

**_So maybe I shed a few tears. Okay, a lot of tears were shed over the course of everything they all went through here. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much to every single person who has reviewed and made writing this the amazing experience it was. It would never have been what it is without you all._**


End file.
